Understanding Nightmares
by Moonprincess92
Summary: Rose wakes up in the night to her mother screaming from a nightmare while her Dad is away. But understanding why is a little harder than Rose originally thought. :Oneshot Hermione.Rose centric postDH:


**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Hermione, Rose or nightmares.

* * *

Understanding Nightmares.

Blurb …

Rose wakes up in the middle of the night to her mother screaming from a nightmare while her Dad is away. But understanding why is a little harder than Rose first thought. :Oneshot Hermione-Rose centric postDH:

* * *

Someone was screaming.

Rose Weasley's eyes flew open as the blood-curling scream rang throughout the house. She jumped violently, her heart beating erratically and wondering what the hell was going on. She grabbed the closest thing to her, which happened to be her broomstick as she searched for attackers in her bedroom.

When no one came crashing through her window, Rose leapt out of bed with her makeshift weapon with only one thing on her mind: the only person who could be screaming would be her Mum. Her brother, Hugo, was at a sleepover at the Potter's and her Dad was currently away for work as an Auror, probably catching some evil wizard or another. He was supposed to be gone for two weeks, the longest mission he'd been on yet. He'd only been away for one of the two weeks so far, but still, nothing had prepared Rose for _this_.

Hermione's screams continued.

It was the middle of the night, but that didn't stop Rose running down the hallway, kicking open Hermione's bedroom door and skidding into the room, brandishing the broomstick frantically. Her Mum stopped screaming once she realised Rose had burst in and Rose managed to relax slightly when she realised that no one was breaking in through her window either.

Hermione was sitting bolt upright in bed, her wand held tightly in her hand. In fact, she was holding it _so_ tightly, Rose wouldn't have been surprised if she accidently snapped it.

"_Crap_ Mum, what's _wrong_?" Rose asked straight away, dropping her broom onto the floor and running to her mother. Hermione relaxed her arm, but didn't drop her wand as Rose climbed up onto the bed next to her.

"Oh – n-nothing Rose," she said, gasping slightly. She was clutching at her chest and Rose wasn't buying any of it. "I'm fine. It – it was just a bad dream."

"That's a load of bollocks, Mum! I thought you were being _murdered_!" Rose insisted, angry that her Mum was trying to pass this off as nothing.

Hermione sighed. "Don't say those kinds of words Rose, they're not nice."

Rose rolled her eyes – she'd been given out for swearing and a lot worse over her fourteen years of living. "Mum, that doesn't matter, you can't just tell me that was nothing – I was ready to bash _anyone's_ head open if they were hurting you!"

"Yes, well …" Hermione's eyes fell on the broomstick on the floor. "Why the broom, Rosie?"

"Huh?" Rose glanced back as well. "Oh. Well, can't do magic in the holidays. Plus, the broom was closer …"

Hermione just sighed and placed her own wand back on her bedside table before turning back to her red-haired and rather frantic daughter. Rose glared at her. There was no way she was believing that was just a 'bad dream' scream. That was definitely a 'something is wrong' scream.

Hermione seemed to realise this, since she sighed again and leaned against the headboard of the bed. Rose moved quickly next to her, to the place where her Dad would usually sleep. Hermione placed an arm around her daughter and Rose found herself not protesting. Rose admitted that she'd always been a bit of a Daddy's girl and as such, didn't get along with her Mum as well as she did with her Dad. Not that she didn't love her Mum, it was just sometimes …

"Was it because Dad's not here?" Rose asked after a moment. "I mean … I can stay with you, if you want?"

"Oh no Rose, you can go back to bed," Hermione told her at once. "I just had a bad dream, that's all."

"Oh come on, that wasn't a bad dream! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Rose said, irritated that her mother was trying to smooth this all over, just like she knew she would. "That sounded more like a bloody _nightmare_!"

Hermione winced. "Rose, I _really_ wish you'd stop speaking like your father." she muttered, her eyes closed. Rose refrained from rolling her eyes again. She couldn't help the way she spoke, her father's language had just seemed to rub off on her. She poked her Mum in the side, causing her to turn and look at her.

"Mum, seriously," Rose said. "You really scared me!"

Hermione gave her a small smile. "I'm sorry Rosie, really. I haven't … I guess I'm just not used to your Dad being away for so long."

"It is the first case he's been sent on that's taken longer than a few days," Rose agreed. Her Uncle Harry was the Head of the Auror department and her Auntie Ginny was used to _him_ being gone for weeks, sometimes even months at a time. But her parents … well, even Rose new that they were practically joined at the hip. She knew her parents were taking their new separation hard. "Look, I can stay with you tonight, if you're lonely?"

Hermione looked at her and Rose hoped she sounded sincere. Her Mum gave a small laugh.

"Oh Rosie, you really are wonderful," she said, giving her a squeeze with the arm still around her. "But I'm fine, you go back to your own bed."

"No!" Rose insisted, pulling the blankets up over both of them. "I want to stay! I'll stay all week until Dad gets back if you want, so long as you don't scream again."

Hermione gave her daughter a surprisingly tender look, which made Rose slightly uncomfortable. She was only trying to be nice for Merlin's sake! Luckily, stubbornness was one of Rose's defining traits (something she thought she must've picked up from her Dad) so she wasn't going to settle for getting sent back to bed.

Hermione sighed, smiling at Rose. "I should've guessed you wouldn't rest until I told you why. You're too much like your Dad."

"Is that good or bad?" Rose asked. Hermione gave a laugh.

"It's good, Rosie," she said. "Look, it was just a nightmare. I've had it before, it doesn't mean anything."

Rose thought about this for a moment, still snuggled up under the blankets with her Mum's arm around her. "Well … maybe if you tell me about it, you'll get it off your mind and you won't dream about it anymore?"

Rose thought this was a perfectly reasonable request, but she wasn't prepared for her Mum's reaction – tears suddenly swam in her eyes and she threw her other arm around her as well in a hug that squeezed the life out of her.

"You're so smart for a fourteen year old," Hermione said, quietly. "Oh, all right. If I tell you about it, will you go to bed?"

Shocked that her Mum was even considering it – she had half expected they'd be arguing about it until sunrise – Rose managed to nod.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Ok. Rose, you know about … when I was young. When Voldemort was at large, right?"

Rose nodded. Of course she did! She'd heard heaps of brave stories about her family, namely one about her Uncle Harry killing said Voldemort and Uncle George swearing he took on six Death Eaters at once. "Yes …?"

Hermione sighed. "Rose, you were only five when you first heard the main stories," Hermione explained. Rose didn't know what this had to do with her nightmare, but she listened raptly, anyway. "So we didn't tell you what _really_ happened, because you were so young. We didn't want to scare you unnecessarily …"

"I won't get scared, Mum." Rose said, immediately.

"I know you won't," Hermione said. "You're older now. Wiser. You can hear the … un-abridged version of events."

Rose felt her mother tense next to her on the bed. Hermione's hand twitched, as though reaching for her wand before speaking. Rose felt almost cheated somehow, cheated out of the real story all these years because her parents thought they would _scare_ her. She couldn't imagine what might be different between the version she had grown up with and the real version.

"I was just a few years older than you, Rosie," Hermione said. "I was only 17, nearly 18. You know I was best friends with your Dad and Uncle Harry when we were at Hogwarts. You know we went on great adventures, saving the Wizarding World …"

"Of course, you three were heroes!" Rose said, remembering her Dad telling her about the last great battle, where he had duelled the most evil Death Eaters, all of them now dead of course.

"We weren't just heroes," Hermione said, her face completely serious. "We were _war _heroes. Rose, you _have_ to understand that we were in the middle of a _war_. A huge war, with very skilled and powerful wizards on both sides. It was a terrible time, Rose. You never knew who to trust, or if you were ever going to be safe. To be honest, it was hell."

Rose blanched at Hermione's words. While Rose had picked up her Dad's language, her Mum wouldn't even say bugger, let alone _hell_. It was almost unnatural to hear it come from her mouth and Rose realised it really must've been bad. Hermione seemed to notice Rose stiffen and she tightened her arm.

"Your Uncle, Dad and I were on the run for almost a year," Hermione continued. "We stayed in a tent for months, living off anything edible we could find. We had a horcrux and it was draining the life out of us. You remember what a horcrux is, right?"

"Erm … it was that object that helped you defeat Voldemort, right?" Rose asked. Hermione sighed.

"I forgot we never told you exactly … of course," she mumbled. She gave her daughter a bracing look. "Rose, there's more to horcruxes than just magical objects," She trailed off, seeming lost for words. _Probably trying not to scare me_, Rose thought with an inward laugh. Really, nothing could scare her at this poi– "Horcruxes were a powerful magical object, with a portion of a wizard's soul inside."

… _wizard's soul?_

"Pardon?" Rose managed to choke out.

"Voldemort spilt his soul," Hermione explained, not looking at Rose. "Seven times. Each time, he killed to do it. It kept him immortal. What we had was a piece of Voldemort's soul and that year on the run was spent searching for the rest of them. We had to destroy them before we could destroy Voldemort."

Rose didn't know what to say. She couldn't even _imagine_ someone trying to split their soul, let alone killing to do it – _seven times_, no less! She didn't have to guess why her parents had never properly explained it before.

"Rose?" Hermione said, making Rose look up, face pale. "Rosie, are you all right? That wasn't too much for you, was it?"

Though she felt slightly sick at the thought of her parents and Uncle even _touching_ the bloody thing, she shook her head and said, "No, I'm fine. Please, tell me the rest."

Hermione gave her a hard look before surrendering. "Well, like I said, that's what we were looking for. Pieces of Voldemort's soul. It was hard, excruciatingly hard. It nearly drove us insane. It was too much for your Dad at one point …" She trailed off for a moment and Rose found herself taking hold of her mother's hand. "… every night we would go to bed, not knowing if we would live to see the next day. Basically, we were stuck in a nightmare, Rose. "

Rose felt like crying. She didn't want her mother to have _ever_ felt like this, wanted to go back in time and make it all right. She had half a mind to tell her Mum to stop telling her all this, but she couldn't bring herself to. Rose _wanted_ to understand what could have possibly made her Mum scream like she had.

So she nodded at her to continue. Hermione's face had changed as she obviously relived these memories and Rose felt slightly guilty for making her bring them up.

But she tried to forget about it. She wanted to understand.

"I received more scars from that year, than all the scars I've received over my lifetime," Hermione said. "Most of them would probably terrify you if you knew how I got them …" Rose didn't say anything as she considered. Of course she'd seen the scars and knew where they'd come from. But she'd never really considered what her Mum must've gone through to get them. Like the lightning bolt on Uncle Harry's forehead, or Uncle George's one ear – Rose and her cousins had treated their scars almost like trophies when they were young, considering them like rewards, reminding them how brave they were. Not once had she considered the pain behind them.

Rose glanced up at her Mum. The pink line shone in the light of the bedside lamp and she supressed a shudder.

"Mum, how … how did you get the scar on your neck?" Rose asked, reaching out and touching the mark that rested across Hermione's throat, only just realising that someone must've tried to … she couldn't finish the thought. Hermione's eyes became guarded as she apparently remembered.

"I got that from a Death Eater," she explained, hesitantly. "We … got caught. The three of us when we were living in the tent. Snatchers caught us. You remember what Snatchers are, right?" she asked and Rose nodded. That much she at least knew. "We were caught one night and taken back to … er, I'm not sure if I should tell you …"

"Mum, you've told me this much, I'm sure I can handle it." Rose said, trying to sound like she wasn't petrified at finding out. Hermione gave her a shrewd look before saying,

"We were taken to Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort was going to come for us."

Rose nearly forgot to breathe. She knew the Malfoy's had once been Death Eaters, but somehow she had never pictured the Malfoy's in that role. Not until now. _She had no idea_ … "Th-the Malfoy's?"

"They are in _no way_ evil now, Rose, don't you _dare_ think that," Hermione said, sternly. "Lucius Malfoy was after power and Draco Malfoy was confused. He was only our age, after all."

"Yeah, but … the _Malfoy's_." Rose tried to get her head around it. She _knew_ Scorpius Malfoy from school, although she had to admit that she didn't really like him much. Rose knew their Dad's hated each other, but she had no idea the reason for their father's hatred could've gone so deep – because they provided the place where her parents and Uncle Harry could be captured and the place where Voldemort could kill them. They let him _kill_ in their own house!

"What happened when you were taken there?" Rose asked, tentatively. Hermione's breath hitched slightly, but it happened so subtly that Rose couldn't be sure it really happened.

"We … well, there were two others who'd been caught with us," Hermione said. "You've met one of them, at Uncle Harry's birthday party. Do you remember Dean Thomas?"

"He was the one who could draw really well, wasn't he?" Rose asked, remembering her Uncle's friend who had painted a huge banner saying '_Happy Birthday, Harry!_'

"Yes and he was on the run as well," Hermione said. "Your Uncle Harry, Dad, a goblin called Griphook and Dean were taken to the dungeons in Malfoy Manor. Your Auntie Luna was already down there with Mr Olivander–"

"What, the crazy old wand maker from Diagon Alley?" Rose cut in. Hermione nodded seriously.

"Yes, Voldemort wanted to use him," she said. Rose didn't press for details. There was something her Mum hadn't mentioned. "What about … where did they put you?"

Hermione didn't answer at first for so long, that Rose was sure Hermione was going to say it was too much and insist Rose went to bed. But Hermione looked down at her, straight in the eye and said, "I was tortured, Rose."

Rose felt her eyes bug out. "T-tortured?"

She nodded. "Bellatrix Lestrange was a Death Eater and an evil – er, witch," Rose raised an eyebrow, sure that Hermione had intended on using a much stronger word that than before catching herself. "She was … you could say _mad_. She was sadistic, cruel and enjoyed causing pain and destruction. She chose to interrogate me first because I am a muggle-born."

"_What_?" Rose couldn't help but gasp. She knew that type of prejudice was once around, but she _never_ would've guessed it'd be that bad. So bad that Bellatrix Lestrange was willing to choose Hermione over any of the other prisoners to interrogate just because of her blood status!

"It happened," Hermione said, sadly. "It was …" She shuddered and Rose felt like crying again. "Bloody awful, Rose. The Cruciatus Curse … I hope you _never_ have to endure that, Rose. I would've told her _anything_, it hurt that much."

Rose felt a tear falling down her cheek and she hid her face in her Mum's shoulder. "The only thing that kept me going was your Dad screaming, Rose," Hermione said. "He could obviously hear me screaming from the dungeon and was yelling out my name. I knew I had to survive for him and for your Uncle. So I held on, Rose. I held on and – are you crying?"

"No." Rose said immediately, though she couldn't quite hide her sniff. Hermione seemed to be annoyed at herself, probably thinking she'd said too much as she hugged Rose.

"I'm sorry, I'm all right," she said, softly. "I lived, I'm perfectly all right."

"You nearly _died_!" Rose sobbed, still hiding her face. She couldn't control her tears, she could only imagine her Mum's eighteen-year-old face screwed up in pain as she _screamed_. If it had been anything like the screams she'd heard tonight, then she couldn't even imagine how her Dad must've felt listening to it.

"I should never have told you! I'm _so sorry_, Rose," Hermione said frantically, rubbing Rose's arms. "You don't have to hear the rest–"

"No," Rose said, rubbing her eyes. "I – I want to know how you got the scar."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I don't want to upset you any more, Rosie. It's late, you really should get to sleep–"

"No, when else am I going to be able to hear this?" Rose countered. "Hugo'll be here tomorrow and if he finds out, _he'll_ want to know and he's only twelve! If there's a chance _he_ could handle it, then I can too!"

Hermione still looked doubtful.

"Please, Mum? I want to understand your nightmare and how you got your scars." Rose said, wiping her face on her Mum's pyjama sleeve and making sure all her tears were gone.

Seemingly against her better judgement, Hermione continued. "I got the scar on my neck because your Uncle and Dad ran in to save me. They broke out of the dungeon with the help of a house-elf – the one who's buried in your Uncle Bill's garden?" Rose nodded. "Right … well, Bellatrix was through asking me questions … and she left me to be killed by a werewolf," Rose managed to stifle another gasp as her mother went on, seemingly thinking that if she just said it all quickly, it wouldn't be so painful to hear. "Your Dad charged in, yelling out spells," she said. "I think I may have been semi-conscious, because the next thing I remember was Bellatrix holding me with a knife at my throat. That's how I got the scar, Rose. The last thing I remember before I completely passed out, was a candelabra falling on top of me. Next thing I knew, I was waking up at your Uncle Bill and Auntie Fleur's house, with your Dad next to me."

"Oh my _God_," Rose whispered. "You … you were so brave, Mum."

Hermione smiled. "Your Uncle Harry told me the same thing that night. Even though I'd been a Gryffindor for six years, I'd never really considered myself that brave. But I _had_ held my own that night and I actually felt proud about it."

"You _should've_ felt proud," Rose said, firmly. "What happened to Bellatrix, then?"

Hermione hesitated slightly. "She was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts."

This shocked Rose slightly, but she calmed herself enough to say, "Well good! I'd like to thank the person who killed her for doing that to you."

Hermione gave a small laugh for the first time that night. "You can thank your Grandma Molly next time we go round."

She had obviously forgotten to not mention this, since Hermione gave an '_oh, crap_' look as Rose immediately froze. _No way_, she thought. _There is no possible way that _Grandma _could've killed a Death Eater_!

Hermione's eyes had gone wide when she realised what she'd said. "Oh, _bugger_–"

"She … G-_Grandma_ killed Bellatrix?" Rose stammered. She could imagine one of her Uncle's killing her, maybe even her Dad, but her _Grandma_? Her sweet, loving, biscuit-making Grandma Molly?

"Rose … you have to understand," Hermione said desperately, for Rose was still frozen with shock. "Your Uncle … Fred, I mean … everyone had only just found out he'd died. Your Grandma had just lost one of her sons and she was _very_ upset. Then Bellatrix went after your Auntie Ginny and your Grandma just kind of … lost control."

"_Killing someone_ was Grandma losing control?" Rose said, faintly. "_Your_ losing control is throwing the wireless at Dad!"

Hermione winced at her mistake. "I know – look, Rose you _have to understand – _the war was incredibly hard for all of us and a lot of people we knew and loved had died either that night, or before. Sometimes, we even saw it ourselves – I _saw_ your Uncle Fred die, Rose," Hermione gave Rose a desperate look, determined to make her daughter understand. "And your Grandma Molly … one of her _sons _had _died_. Gone, forever and then someone was going after her only girl! You have to see Rose, your Grandma _isn't a murderer. _I don't even know if I should be telling you this …"

Rose managed to unstick her throat. "No, no, it's ok," she said. She still couldn't imagine her sweet, loving Grandma _killing_ someone, but she knew what her Mum was trying to tell her. "Mum, I understand. If Hugo died, I'd want to kill someone too," Hermione flinched slightly, but didn't interrupt. "I get it and I won't mention it to Grandma if you don't want me to …?'

"Oh, Rose," Hermione said, hugging her. "You're more grown-up than I thought."

Rose felt slightly awkward. "Hardily. I just know … it must've been hard, to lose a son."

Hermione gave her a look so full of love that Rose had to shift her gaze to her Mum's shoulder. "I have an amazingly, understanding daughter."

"Thanks." Rose muttered. Hermione stroked her hair.

"Do you want to hear the rest?"

"There's _more_?" Rose asked, astonished. She'd felt so many emotions that night that she wasn't sure if she could handle much more. But then she realised that she still didn't know what had made her Mum scream so loudly earlier that night, so she put on a brave face and told Hermione that she did want to hear the rest.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Rose said. "I want to understand why you screamed."

Hermione took a deep breath. "All right. My dream … was about the Battle. The last one."

"The one you all fought in?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "At Hogwarts. That night, Rose … I'd never been more scared in my life. Never, not even when I thought I was going to die at the hands of Bellatrix. I was _so scared_ that my friends were going to die, I was scared for my school – your school now – and I was scared for my family. Especially your Dad."

Rose felt slightly awkward asking, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Were you in love with him then?" she said. Hermione gave her a small smile.

"Yes, I was," she answered, simply. "I was petrified that he was going to die before we could … well, be together, I suppose. I was scared for your Uncle Harry and I was scared for myself. There's a room at Hogwarts that no longer works … it was destroyed and I was nearly destroyed with it."

"Really?" Rose said, sure that her mind would explode if she heard anymore, though she still couldn't bring herself to tell her Mum to stop.

"Yes. It was on the seventh floor, opposite that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy?"

Rose knew the spot. The wall opposite the tapestry had a weird black mark on it, as if someone had burned it in the shape of a doorway. It confused practically everyone at Hogwarts, no one ever knowing where it had come from.

"I know the place."

Hermione nodded. "That room was burned with cursed fire. Someone I knew died in there. Not someone I knew well, and granted he was trying to kill us, but still. The fighting once we finally got out was … I can't describe it, Rose. You ran off adrenaline and fast reactions. The whole time, I knew I could die in a heartbeat. I got _this_ scar from some Death Eater, I forget who," Hermione lifted up her pyjama t-shirt, showing a long scar that ran from just above her bellybutton, slanting up until it disappeared under her t-shirt. "It's not that long compared to the scars the others got, trust me."

Rose shook her head, trying to imagine why someone would even _consider_ hurting her mother like that. Eventually she managed to ask, "What was your dream?"

Hermione sighed. "My dream, Rose, was of that battle. I was fighting and … I couldn't stop everyone from dying. I saw your Uncle Fred over and over. Did I ever tell you it was because a wall collapsed on him?" Rose shook her head, feeling a pang for the Uncle she never knew. "And everyone else … your Uncle Harry … your Dad … he …"

Rose was stunned to see a tear run down Hermione's cheek. She was her _Mum_ and mums_ never_ cry!

"And you woke up, screaming." Rose finished quietly. Hermione wiped away the tear as quickly as it had come and nodded.

"Yes and I'm sorry I woke you Rose," she said. "And I'm also sorry that you had to hear what the war was like. But it's important that you know."

"Really?"

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling now despite her watery eyes. "One of the two main things I learned during that time, was that you need to trust your family more than anything. Because if you don't, you'll never trust anyone at all ever again. Family's important Rose and you're lucky you've got such a big one."

Rose smiled. She _was_ lucky. She loved all of her Auntie's and Uncle's, (most) of her cousins and she especially loved Grandma Molly's baking. Even if she _did_ kill someone, years and years ago.

"What was the second thing you learned, Mum?" Rose asked.

Hermione laughed. "Oh, that was to duck every time you heard someone yell at you, especially if the light coming at you was green."

Rose sniggered. "I'll remember that for duelling classes next year."

Hermione laughed again then glanced at the clock on her bedside table. "Merlin, it's nearly three in the morning! You should go to bed, Rosie …"

But Rose heard the reluctance in her Mum's voice. "Can I stay here with you? I know I'm not Dad, but maybe I'll make you feel better at going to sleep? Just for tonight?"

Hermione smiled and lay down further under the covers. Rose copied her mother, lying next to her. "Of course you can stay, Rosie. Good night."

"Good night," Rose said, suddenly feeling rather tired, despite all the information she now knew swimming in her head. "Thanks for telling me the stories, Mum. I understand now."

Rose's eyes were drooping and she wasn't sure if her Mum really did say, "You're welcome, Rosie. I'm glad you understand. I love you."

* * *

_Ron was really glad he could finally go home. As much as he loved his work (and they_ did _catch a dark-wizard or two), he really missed his wife and children after being away from them for two weeks. It was disconcerting, sleeping in a sleeping-bag without Hermione next to him. He'd never really spent a night without her since they were about eighteen._

_He had of course worried about how Hermione would sleep. She tended to have a lot of nightmares, especially when he was gone, mostly from the war; silly, irrational nightmares that would never happen, but still made her wake up screaming. He suddenly felt anxious to get home immediately, even though it was about one in the morning. Rose and Hugo had no idea that their mother had these nightmares and he didn't want to them to ever have to find out why. _

_He knew he and Hermione would have to tell them about the war someday – the_ real _version, not the fairy-tale version they had heard all their lives. But at fourteen and twelve, he wasn't sure if they were ready for it._

_Unable to wait any longer, Ron slapped Harry's shoulder next to him from where they were sat in the Auror staffroom at the Ministry, bidding his best friend goodbye. _

"_Going home already?" Harry asked, clutching his cup of tea. Ron nodded. _

"_Hermione's nightmares have been rather bad lately," he explained. "I'm not sure if she remembered to put silencing charms over our room or not and I really need to just see her." _

_Ron knew Harry would understand, the benefits of such a long friendship. "Go on then," he said, smiling. "We're just going to be hanging around here until sunrise, anyway. I'm sure she'll be simply ecstatic to see you in the middle of the night."_

_Ron rolled his eyes and drank the last of his own tea before slamming the cup down onto the small table in front of them. "Thanks mate, see you tomorrow when we write the reports up." _

_Harry just shook his head slightly and waved as Ron Disapparated_ _with a crack. He reappeared just outside the boundaries of his home and he felt that much better, knowing his wife, daughter and son were in there, safe. Quickly getting past the protective spells, Ron made his way inside, up the stairs and into his bedroom, careful not to make too much noise so he didn't wake his children. _

_Peering round the door of his bedroom, however, he was slightly shocked to see another redhead lying next to his beautiful wife. For a wild moment, he thought it was one of his brothers, since the hair was so bright and he could only see the top of their head, but it took only another second to realise that it was only his Rose. They looked so sweet together that Ron didn't question why Rose was in her parents' bed, when she hadn't done it since she was seven. _

_He cautiously sat down on the end of the bed, kicking his shoes off. They had their arms around each other, sleeping soundly and Ron had the shrewd suspicion that Hermione didn't put up the silencing charms after all. Had Rose heard her scream and come running? He hated to think that his daughter had heard that. It was terrifying enough if was his wife, but if it was his mother …? _

_Sighing, he climbed into bed behind Rose, who was now wedged in between them. Just as he was falling asleep, Ron thought that even if Rose _had_ been told about the real version of the war, he was glad that Hermione had said it. _

_Unfortunately, that meant he had to tell Hugo. _

-Fin.

* * *

A/N: **Updated, 21/8/11:** I originally posted this story in 2009 and while i don't think it's complete and utter crap (i know, shock, horror!), i wanted to fix it up so the grammar and stuff wasn't so terrible. I was and still am rather proud of this story, so i wanted it to be something i'd want more people to read.

I had always wondered if Harry, Ron and Hermione would ever tell their kids the _real_ truth about the war and somehow, i managed to come up with this. I'm sorry it's so long, but there was so much to explain! I also had a lot of fun writing Rose's POV from third person for a change and i sort of imagined what i would be like if i'd been having this conversation with my own Mum, so that's how their relationship ended up turning out like.

So i hope you all like this. Remember reviews are always appreciated!

Until next time-

-Moon. : D


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